


chocolate

by kiyala



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gift Giving, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 02:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5727097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kasamatsu doesn't know what to do when he receives chocolate from girls on Valentines Day. As it turns out, he doesn't know how to deal with Kise giving him chocolate either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	chocolate

The tall stack of chocolate boxes on Kasamatsu's desk turns him into a stammering, red-faced disaster. He can't even thank the girls who are smiling at him shyly, can't quite make his voice work no matter how badly he tries. He gives them a quick bow of gratitude instead, embarrassed and feeling a little guilty that they've gone to this effort for him when he can't even get out a simple _thank you_ in return.

They giggle to each other as they walk away and for a moment, he thinks that they're laughing at him. He wouldn't blame them for it, but when he looks over his shoulder, they're glancing back at him, blushing hard. He manages a wobbly smile at one of them and she holds her hands to her cheeks, looking thrilled.

He turns back to the chocolates on his desk, and finds Moriyama standing there, arms folded across his chest.

"This isn't fair at all," Moriyama complains loudly, opening the topmost box and helping himself to a square of chocolate. "Just because you're the captain of the basketball team, you get so much more chocolate than the rest of us do."

"Trust me, I'd trade with you if I could, in a heartbeat," Kasamatsu mutters and god, even his ears feel like they're burning with embarrassment. "At least you'd be able to talk back to them."

Moriyama hums, helping himself to another piece. "At least we can both be secure in the knowledge that however much attention we get, Kise probably gets ten times as much."

"Yeah," Kasamatsu replies quietly, not sure what to do with the way his stomach suddenly twists with jealousy. "I guess so."

True to Moriyama's word, they get to the gymnasium for practice that afternoon and Kise is carrying so many boxes, bags, and bouquets of flowers in his arms that he can barely see where he's going.

"You're going to run into something, you idiot," Kasamatsu scolds, walking up to Kise and elbowing him in the side before helping him carry half of them. "What would you do if you fell and injured yourself, huh? How are you going to play basketball then?"

"Thanks, senpai," Kise beams at him. "I was empty-handed while I was walking here and then I just got flocked by fangirls. You know what it's like."

"I really don't," Kasamatsu replies, but he helps Kise put his gifts away before they get changed for practice. "Come on, don't dawdle."

Practice finishes earlier than usual today, because of all the members who leave early, muttering that they have plans. Kasamatsu half expects Kise to be one of them, but he never speaks up, continuing to play and go through his practice drills until the coach calls an end to their practice.

There aren't many of them left on the court, just barely enough for a five-on-five match. It takes a while to pack up, with just them, but they manage it quickly enough. They hit the showers, and when Kasamatsu changes into his track pants and t-shirt, he realises that Kise is the only one left in the locker rooms.

"I thought you'd be one of the guys rushing to get out of here early," Kasamatsu says, walking over to his bag. "You don't have a girlfriend to go out with on Valentines Day?"

Kise laughs softly, shaking his head. He looks tense, Kasamatsu realises. Nervous. His brain is already working, trying to figure out why. They have two practice matches coming up in the next week, but neither of them are against schools that would cause Kise to actually worry like this and if anything, strong opponents only make Kise _more_ excited, not nervous the way he is now. Perhaps it's because—

"Kasamatsu-senpai," Kise says quietly, interrupting the flow of his thoughts. "I have something for you."

"Huh?"

Kise holds a small, square box out and for a moment, Kasamatsu wonders if he's offloading his excess of gifts onto other people.

Except the box is wrapped in blue and white—the colour of their jerseys. There's a blue ribbon wrapped around the box, clearly not having been tied properly the first time, judging by the kinks and creases in it, and the way it's slipping off the box entirely.

It's from Kise, Kasamatsu realises. It's for him.

His face doesn't burn up this time, but he's pretty sure that he stops breathing. He can't speak, and he can't think either, beyond the one thought: _Kise got me valentines chocolate_.

"They probably don't taste very good," Kise laughs in the self-deprecating way he does sometimes, when their conversations turn a little too personal for his comfort. "I don't really know how to make chocolates by hand. I had to get my sister to help. The first few batches tasted awful, so I kept making them until I got the hang of it. Only the best for you, senpai. Or the best I could manage, anyway."

Kasamatsu opens his mouth to speak, but he can't. He just _can't_ , no matter how desperately he wants to, no matter how much he wants to thank Kise, or ask him if the chocolates mean what he hopes they mean.

With a gentle smile, Kise presses the box into Kasamatsu's hands, his cheeks tinged pink. "Please accept my feelings, senpai." 

And with that, he picks his bag up and he's gone, leaving Kasamatsu standing alone and stunned in the locker rooms.

Kise's gone by the time he walks out, and Kasamatsu isn't sure whether he's disappointed or relieved. He looks down at the box in his hands, sliding the ribbon off and lifting the lid. He counts nine chocolates inside, each of them in the shape of a wobbly heart, and he grins to himself, heart pounding with elation.

He walks home, the box clutched to his chest, and decides that he's going to have to come up with something pretty impressive for White Day. If he can even wait for that long.


End file.
